To See Your Ghost
by shadowscometolife
Summary: A different version of how Clary gets introduced to the Shadowhunting world. Jace and the Lightwoods find that Clary has an exceptional gift but it's not drawing. Her life gets turned upside down when her mother goes missing. And the one thing she thought would always be her own gets taken away. CLACE and a little bit of our other power couples.
1. Chapter 1

**New story! I just read the series and immediately fell in love. So now I'm all inspired to write about Jace and Clary loveliness! I hope you enjoy this first chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of the characters mentioned in this. All rights belong to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>"Siimooon," Clary whined into the phone that was propped between her shoulder and cheek, "Please? Just for an hour."<p>

"_But your mom will kill me if she found out that I let you go to a club," _Simon answered.

"Well things have been tense with my mom lately anyway," she mumbled irritably. "Please, I just need to be care free for a little while."

Clary's eyebrows creased upward in the middle while her lower lip jutted out, praying that the puppy-dog look would work through the phone. Simon's defeated sigh on the other side declared her victory.

"_Fine, but only for an hour."_

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She made a kissing sound into the phone as if she were kissing Simon's cheek that rested on the phone.

"_So I'll see you soon." _

Rushing her goodbye, she stuffed the phone into the back pocket of her jeans and slid into her room. She stripped off the oversized sweater she was wearing and pulled on a short sleeved shirt instead. Silently, she hummed to herself a nameless tune and headed for the front door to the apartment.

"Clary, where are you going?"

Her mother's voice called out from the kitchen just as she was reaching for her jacket. _She must have just gotten home, _she thought. Clary slightly hesitated which gave enough time for Jocelyn to step around the corner, her arms crossed loosely across her chest.

Clary turned her back to her mother, grabbing her messenger back and slinging it over her shoulder. "I'm just going to Java Jones."

"Well don't stay out too late. It's been getting dark earlier and you know I don't like you out at night." Her mother's voice sounded calm, but Clary knew the anxious underlying tone immediately.

"I know," was all Clary muttered while rolling her green eyes. "But I'll probably just crash at Simon's. We have some homework to do, so don't wait up for me."

Before her mom could say another word, Clary opened the door and walked down the stairs, shooting a careless smile over her shoulder.

...

The New York air smelled as dirty as usual but Clary never noticed anymore. She pushed through the crowd of people as she made her way to the subway. Tuning out the rest of the world with the hum of the nameless tune in her ear once again. This song, whatever it was, was going to haunt her until she could get back to her guitar and write it out. Inwardly, she cursed herself for not doing so before she left. Nevertheless she continued to hum, the rest of the people and world fading into the background of her mind.

A sharp scream pierced through to the world she escaped to in her head. She whipped her head up in an instant, her fiery red curls bouncing as they settled around her shoulders. Clary ran forward to the next alleyway, searching for the source of the scream. Pushing her back against the building and peeking into the already dark alley Clary could just make out a huddle of people. There were three people, maybe four, but one was lying on the cold concrete. As one leaned down and across the fallen person, Clary was able to see that there were only three people.

They talked freely, as if they were confident nobody was around to listen, or they didn't care if anybody else heard. Either way, Clary inched a little closer to the group, trying to figure out what was going on.

"It's just a small gash, Is, I'll draw an iratze." The one leaning over the person on the ground fished in his pocket and pulled out a pen-looking utensil.

Clary watched as he moved closer to pull up the sleeve of the one on the ground, and to her bewilderment, the tip of the pen lit up bright blue. What looked like light smoke was raising from where the pen touched, it was _burning_ the skin. Clary heard a small scream escape the gritted teeth of what she could now distinguish as a girl. Her ebony black hair splayed across the concrete behind her.

Frozen in astonishment, Clary's gaze snapped up to the other person in the alley as he moved away from the other two. She watched his movements closely as he walked further away into the alley, reappearing a few moments later with a _sword _in his grasp. The hood of his black jacket was draped over his head but Clary could see blonde curls that rested just below his ear peek out. He was twirling the sword around in his hand, like he was unaware that it could slice his hand open, and sauntered back into the light. Now she could see that the blade was covered almost to the hilt with _blood_?

Clary gasped when she realized that the blood wasn't a dark red but actually black. All three of the stranger's faces turned to her, all of them washed with surprise. They obviously weren't expecting an audience. The blonde one with the sword broke from his confusion first and stepped towards her. But Clary was already turning away and running for the comfort of civilization, praying that she would get lost in the big crowd.

...

She knew she should have ran back home, where she could lock the door and hide under her blankets but honestly, she wanted Simon. He would not believe her story, I mean who in New York carries around blood soaked swords nowadays? But she didn't care, at that moment she just wanted to get coffee, listen to some bad poetry with her best friend and pretend that what she witnessed was just a hallucination. It was a foolish plan, but it just had to work.

"Clary," Simon greeted her outside the coffee shop with his usual big grin plastered on his face.

Clary flung herself at him and caught him around his torso, gripping tightly at his jacket. She sucked in a deep breath that was purely Simon, safety. Simon let out a nervous laugh and it reverberated through his ribcage. "Are you okay?" He asked cautiously.

"You will _not_ believe what I just saw." Clary started but was interrupted by Simon ushering her inside.

"Well Eric's about to start so you can tell me about it later, okay?"

"But I—It was—Fine."

Simon guided her to a small two-seater table and went to fetch coffee for the both of them. Clary just sat dazed throughout the rest of the poetry reading and modestly sipped at her coffee. Simon's friend and bandmate, Eric, was not the best at poetry but Simon was always there to support him.

...

"Clary, are you sure you still want to go to Pandemonium?" Simon questioned.

It took a moment for Clary to answer but she eventually nodded her head. Simon sighed in obvious disappointment. "Nothing like dancing away the thought of a crazy group of murderous goth teenagers with a bunch of goth teenagers."

They continued to walk down the dimly lit street in the direction of the all-ages dance club. The familiar muffled music let them know that they were close. Clary's heart rate jumped just knowing that she was moments away from letting all this stress go. She quickened her pace and Simon had to jog to catch back up.

"This line is going to take an hour in itself," Simon moaned dramatically.

"I didn't know you were so eager to get inside," Clary smirked, "Ready to show off some killer moves?"

At that Simon snorted, "You and I both know I have one, and only one, move. It's just the sooner we get in, the sooner we get out."

"You don't have to stay, Simon. Go home."

"Are you kidding me? Even if you didn't just have a run in with some crazies, I still wouldn't leave you alone here." Simon looked away as a slight pink colored his cheeks.

Clary laughed at his embarrassment and turned her attention back to the line, trying to catch a glimpse of the front. Without noticing she was doing it, she started humming again. Simon was accustomed to the fact that Clary got lost inside of her own mind sometimes, so he just let her be.

A boy with blue hair stalked passed the line of people, making a beeline for the bouncer at the front. When he was just beside Clary and Simon, he stopped abruptly and tilted his head to the side, looking directly at Clary who was off in her own world. The boy continued to watch her with a perplexed look in his yellow eyes until Clary finally noticed his presence.

He motioned with one finger for Clary to follow him and began walking with his previous determination. Clary gripped Simon's jacket sleeve and tugged him out of the line and followed the stranger with blue hair. All the boy did was whisper to the man monitoring the line and then proceeded to walk into the club. He opened the door; the music poured out like a flood, and glanced over his shoulder to nod to Clary.

Giddy with excitement, Clary jumped after the stranger and pulled Simon along as well. Once they stepped onto the main floor of the club the blue-haired boy gave a half wave to Clary, as if to acknowledge the 'thank you' Clary was about to offer. After he strutted off into the crowd of equally wild-haired teens, Simon shot Clary a shrug and they began to fight their way to the dance floor.

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><p><strong>Yay! One chapter down. What did you guys think? I hope you liked it, I'm very excited about this actually.<strong>

**Read, Review and all that jazz. **

**Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**ONE REVIEW! Thank you, Guest for your review. I got quite a few follows though so I'm updating for all of you guys! Thank you for reading & I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of the characters. All rights belong to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>Clary had no issues blending in when it came to Pandemonium. Besides her bright, but normal, hair not being some wild color like most of the rest, she fit in perfectly with their fluid bodies. It was easy for her to sway with the music and get lost in the crowd doing so.<p>

Simon on the other hand had more difficulty with his stiff stature and lanky arms. Clary had tried multiple times to teach him some simple dance moves, but he always resorted back to his awkward bobbing up and down. He could not 'loosen up' in this place, not with the constant bumping into and rubbing against sweaty bodies with faces he did not recognize. Simon Lewis did not belong in a club, let alone Pandemonium.

He stuck to Clary's side like glue, fearing that he would somehow get swept up in the crowd and get tossed around like a wave. At least with Clary here he had something to hold on to. Like an anchor of sorts.

"Simon, could you go get some water? I'm already dying." The breathlessness in her voice testified to her statement.

Simon just nodded and started moving through the sea of faces, leaning in close to her ear as he did so. "Stay right here, I'll be right back." Clary simply nodded in response and continued to sway with the crowd.

Not even ten seconds later a tall body was in front of her, barely inches away. Clary looked up into the burning yellow eyes of the person in front of her, the spotlights glinting off his blue hair. The side of his mouth twitched into a smirk and Clary just smiled back at him, dancing like she has known this boy her whole life. That was Clary, so trusting of everyone who might offer her a glimpse of the wild side.

After the song had ended and flowed perfectly into a new pulsing beat, the boy stepped back not moving his gaze from her and started backing into the sea of bodies, his slight shoulders clearing a path. Clary's eyes watched him go for as long as she could see him and then he was gone. Then she was pushing her way through the bodies after him.

Following through the parted crowd, Clary reached a door off the side of the dance floor marked 'EXIT ONLY' and pushed it open. The cold air of the night bit at her face the moment the door swung open. The blue-haired boy was nowhere to be seen in the alley between the club and another abandoned warehouse. She stepped off the ledge and looked in each direction, one end was fenced off and the other must have led to the front of the building. Clary searched for the boy that mysteriously disappeared.

The slam of the door shutting closed, the sudden deafening of the music, made Clary jump. She swiftly turned back towards the door and reached for handle, but there was none. It really was just an exit only. She pounded on the door with her fist a couple times but gave up hope of someone differentiating it from the bass that vibrated through the walls. Groaning in frustration, Clary made her way down the alley to go back in the front door humming to herself in the process.

As she was about to round the corner, a figure emerged from the shadow casted by the building. His blue hair looking more of a silver color in the moonlight. Clary gasped but regained her composure in an instant. "You scared me," she laughed a little.

The boy didn't respond with words, he simply walked towards her with his intense gaze piercing through her. Clary didn't even know she was moving until she felt her back hit the brick wall behind her, the boy once again only inches away from her. His breath was warm against her cheek. Her face in turn heated up with a blush. The boy smiled and his hand came up to her face, the back of his fingers gliding gently down the side of her cheek. So gently that Clary second guessed if he even touched her.

In a flash, his hand was tangled in her hair, yanking on it so her face was turned up to his. Clary winced but was too shocked to move a muscle. He smiled again, the same smile as before, but now it seemed dark and twisted, sinister. Then it split into a wide grin, showing his teeth, except his teeth were not normal. They were pointed, sharp and seemed to double in size in a split second.

There was no hesitation now, Clary screamed and jerked her knee up as her fight or flight instincts kicked in. But there was no way to run from this, she had to fight. The boy doubled over in pain but his grip in her hair only tightened. Clary screamed again, praying that someone would just happen to hear her over the music.

She threw her arms and kicked wildly at the boy who had pinned her against the wall. But for some reason the energy she was desperately putting forth into her defense was rapidly decreasing. Was this her body's way of defending itself? Just shutting down?

Just as she was about to give up and succumb to the darkness that was rimming her vision, a light tore through the darkness. Clary forced her eyes to open just in time to see the boy's eyes widen and glance down at the object protruding from his chest. But just a quick as it was there, it was gone again. The fist in her hair loosened, the boy lurched back slightly and they both fell to the wet concrete.

Pain shot through her shoulder where it struck the ground with her dead weight. Clary tried with the last remaining strength she had in her to keep her eyes focused on what was going on around her. The boy now lay next to her, his eyes staring straight into the black sky but his body was shaking violently on the ground. If she hadn't known better she probably would have thought he was having a seizure.

Then he was gone. Not just dead gone, but literally gone. Vanished. As if he too was a figment of her imagination and she decided she didn't want to see him anymore. The only trace of something being there was the pile of ash left in his place. But now she didn't want to figure out what happened, she just wanted to sleep.

Just as Clary's eyes were about to close completely, something dropped right by her face, where the boy had just been. She was able to pry her eyes open slightly to look up as two hands reached for her. Instinctively, Clary attempted to cringe away but it felt as if every ounce of energy had just evaporated. The warm hands gently cupped her face, slightly patting her cheek.

"No, no, I need you to keep your eyes open." A male voice penetrated the haziness that encompassed her mind, "Can you do that for me, little girl?"

Clary groaned, a spark of anger flared up quickly. The person leaned down closer towards her, she could feel his breath on the side of her face and neck. "What was that?"

Clary fought to get a sound to escape her dry throat, she never did get her water. Putting every last effort she could into five simple words. "I'm not a little girl."

At that she heard the man laugh slightly, amusement laced through his tone. _I'm dying and he's just sitting here laughing?_

"Okay then, Red, I need you to stay awake. Keep your eyes open." His voice had returned to the soothing tone it had started at, "Just keep talking to me."

"What.. was that?" She gasped quietly, glancing towards the ashes where the blue-haired boy once lay.

"It was just some drugged out teenager."

"But… his teeth. They—so sharp." Clary wasn't making a coherent sentence but at the moment that was the least of her worries.

"Damn kids think they're vampires nowadays. Getting their teeth filed into fangs." The lightness in this man's voice concerned her slightly. Either she was dying and he was just trying to make her last moments pleasant, even funny, or somehow he knew she was okay and wasn't worried about her current state.

"Who are you?" The question came as an afterthought as she lay on the cold, wet ground, this man's hands encasing her face.

"My names Jace. Jace Wayland."

"Jace!" The new voice in the alley came out in a huff of breath sounding relieved and worried at the same time. "Jace what happened?"

"Iblis demon," he replied calmly, "Almost bit her. It managed to suck most of her energy though, she's barely conscious."

"Should we—?" The newcomer's voice trailed off into a question.

"That's what I was going to ask you. If she's not Nephilim—"

"I know." Jace was interrupted, "But she could see us. Earlier, in the alley."

Realization dawned on Clary, like puzzle pieces fitting together, as she pictured the scene that unfolded before her in the alleyway earlier that day. The girl on the ground, one boy burning her skin and the other twirling a blood-soaked sword. Once again she tried to cringe away from these people that could kill her and moaned in pain.

"Hey, hey, hey, just stay still okay? Alec here is going to heal you, make you feel better, but it will burn a little bit, okay?" Jace's voice was calm and soothing once again as his thumb stroked Clary's cheek reassuringly.

Clary saw the flash of a blue light and then a burning sensation jolted up her arm immediately after. She tried to pull her arm away from the source of the pain but Jace was holding her to the ground. She squirmed uselessly under his grip and whimpered in pain. _Please, just make it stop._ And that's exactly what the darkness did as she closed her eyes.

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><p><strong>Why hello, Jace. <strong>

**I hope you liked it enough to favorite, follow and review. Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I meant to say this on the first chapter but I forgot and most you who have already read it would not see it. I just wanted to say that this story has elements of both the movie and the books. One idea, that comes to play a major part later on, is taken from the movie. So I am aware that it did not happen in the books. Unfortunately so, because it is extremely interesting and I wish it would have been an actual aspect of the story. Anyway, so don't get mad that I incorporated ideas from the movie also. Thank you!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of the characters in this story. All rights belong to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>The darkness that Clary was floating in was slowly beginning to subside after what felt like hours of being asleep. Her hearing was the first sense to recover and Clary's ears were assaulted with the pounding of the bass in muddled music. Or was that her brain pounding against her skull?<p>

"We should get her to the Institute," a strangely familiar voice startled her slightly. She now knew that what felt like hours was actually only a few minutes of unconsciousness. The burning in her arm had dulled to a faint warmth that spread through her veins. "Hodge will know what to do."

"Okay," another familiar voice answered, "I got her."

Slim arms slid under her shoulders and the crook in her knees and then she was lifted from the ground. Her eyes opened slightly as she was brought close to the chest of the boy with blonde hair. She groaned again, the sudden shift from the concrete into his arms left her head throbbing with more force. His grip tightened subconsciously as he began to walk.

Clary's heart rate quickened, "Simon…" she managed to moan out.

The boy stopped tersely and looked down at her with a confused expression, "What?"

"Simon," she muttered again.

"Her boyfriend." The other boy's voice clarified.

A surge of anger coursed through her at that comment. She managed to push off of the boy's chest and rolled out of his arms. Clary slammed into the concrete again with more force than the first time. _Man gravity sucked._ Propping herself up on her bruised elbow she noticed a black mark cut into her skin, healing already into a raised scar. She succeeded in shooting a glare in the two boy's direction. The blonde one just stared back at her in shock. Whether he was concerned for her physical health or just surprised that she pushed him away, she could not tell.

"He's not… my boyfriend." Clary answered in annoyance.

"Does he know that?" The voice that belonged to Jace escaped from the blonde one's mouth. His thin eyebrow was arched in a quizzing manner.

Clary opened her mouth to retort but the vibrating in her pocket stopped her before she could. She glanced at the caller ID although she had a pretty good feeling of who it was.

"Speak of the devil," Clary mutter with light irony in her tone.

The other, black haired boy, was his name Alex, stepped forward with a hand outstretched asking her to stop. She narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head, waiting for him to speak.

"We need to get you to the hospital," he stated.

"But I can't just leave without telling Simon. He has probably been looking for me this entire time."

The phone continued to ring and Clary knew it was going to send Simon to voicemail any second now. She looked back and forth between the two boys wondering what to do. Alex spoke up again, "Just tell him you had to catch a cab home because you weren't feeling well."

Rolling her eyes, she began to refuse "But how can I trust yo—" she was interrupted with Jace's irritable sigh.

"Just do it." Jace turned away from her, annoyed that she wasn't doing what she was told. "Now." He shooed her on with one hand.

Clary scoffed at Jace's short-temper and answered the phone the second time Simon called her. "Hey, Simon—I'm sorry.—Yeah I know, I'm sorry. I should have stayed where I was but I wasn't feeling good.—Well I tried to find you but there were so many people.—Yeah, thanks.—No, I just got home." Clary's eyes shot up to the two boys towering over her in the alley with a questioning glance. "No, it's fine. Just go home and I'll call you tomorrow. Thank you though.—Okay, goodnight."

After Clary stuffed her phone back into her pocket she shot Jace and Alex an 'are you satisfied?' look. Both of the boys shared a glance that seemed to hide a complete conversation between them. Alex sent a sideways look to the girl and motioned with his head for Jace to get her. The blonde one huffed up his shoulders and turned back to face Clary again. His eyes confided that he didn't want to look her way but his outstretched arms were reaching to pick her up again.

"I can walk just fine," Clary batted his arms away indignantly.

"Whatever, Red."

Alex directed an incredulous glare at Jace but he didn't notice. Instead, the blonde haired moody teenager started walking towards the exit of the alley. Clary slowly brought herself to her feet and stood still a moment as her knees buckled under her. Once she regained her balance, Clary followed quietly, wondering why she was following complete strangers, like she didn't learn the first time.

...

After a trip on the subway and a couple more blocks of walking, the boys stalked up to an old wrought iron gate right off of the streetside. Once Clary was a few feet away she could see "The Institute" shaped out of iron resting on top of the archway. Jace and Alex pushed it open with a small amount of force and began walking up the weed-ridden pathway.

Looking up at what lay before her, Clary watched as an old run-down building began to mold and reform into an extravagant piece of art. The walls extended into the sky, adding multiple floors to the once single leveled home. Candlelit windows grew out of the dusty red brick like stars appearing in the night sky. Finally, the growing walls ended as the roofs came to a point, piercing the night.

Clary marveled at the beautiful castle in front of her, momentarily getting lost in the sight. The sound of a heavy door unlocking and sliding across a wooden floor and an impatient noise woke her from her pause. She hurried up the front steps and slipped through the door as Jace closed it behind her. He brushed passed her and she followed in a daze of amazement.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jace began in his light tone again.

_Geez this boy is moody, _Clary thought to herself. "Yes it is," she replied instead.

He looked at her sideways with narrowed eyes, which Clary could see were a golden color in the light of the room, but resumed his path down the hall. Hesitantly, she went after him and belatedly realized that Alex was gone. She shrugged the thought off refusing to let it distract her from all the new sights to take in.

After taking multiple turns down different hallways, Clary felt the warmth in her arm sting slightly and then it was gone completely. She looked down at the black mark that adorned her forearm, but it was gone. And the only way she could tell that it had been there at all before was the faint white scar that was in its place. Lightheadedness washed over her and she watched as the lights from the candles blurred together and danced across her vision.

She was able to mumble out a breath of "Jace" before her knees gave way and she collapsed to the wooden floor.

...

Jace swore he heard his name and then it was followed by a heavy thump behind him. He spun around swiftly on his heel to see a mess of red curls and a crumpled girl lying on the floor. In one solid leap he landed right next to Clary and sloppily brushed the hair from her face. His fingers immediately flew to her neck and pressed firmly, searching for the thump of her pulse.

He found it, it was faint but it was there indeed. Jace let out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding. Gingerly, his arms wrapped around her small frame and he lifted her to his chest for the second time that night. Jace couldn't deny that her body fit perfectly against his but he refused to entertain the thought. Instead he focused on reaching the infirmary where Hodge would be waiting for them.

"What happened?" Alec and Isabelle both shouted in hushed voices when Jace turned into the large room full of empty beds. Even though it was the same question, they both were searching for an answer on completely different levels.

"She passed out on the way up here. The iratze must have worn off quicker than we expected."

"And the demon must have been more powerful than we thought," Alec said, perplexity reforming his face.

Jace walked over to the cot that was made up with blankets and some medicine on the table beside it. Careful not to hurt or wake her, he placed her gently down and looked up at Hodge who was waiting back by another larger table.

"Go, I've got it from here." Hodge shooed the three teens away from the red head. He preferred to work alone, unless the work was extensive and required more than his two hands.

Alec and Isabelle turned right away and began to make their way to the hallway at his command. Jace on the other hand stood glued to the spot by Clary's bedside for a brief moment, before he caught his tutor's stare and backed away, eventually turning to join his friends.

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><p><strong>AHH! Got some Jace thoughts...<strong>

**Woo! I hope you enjoyed it. Read, Review, Favorite, Follow. I appreciate every bit of love! Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I am extremely apologetic for going off the grid for almost a month! School got hectic (more hectic than I ever imagined) and honestly, I had writer's block. Hopefully, this chapter will make up for all of that.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and followed. I really appreciate it! And to the Guest who commented on the "fluidity" of my writing. THANK YOU SO MUCH! (If you're reading this.) I love hearing that my writing is easy to read and understand and that I have stayed relatively close to Cassandra Clare's characters and how they are.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters in this story. All rights go to the talented Cassandra Clare.**

**Now without further ado, CHAPTER 4!**

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><p>There was a bright light seeping through Clary's closed eyelids that made her cringe in pain. She was coming to for the second time and the haziness was just as present as the first time. After laying with her eyes closed, completely awake with thoughts buzzing around her chaotic head, she contemplated opening her eyes. She didn't want to know what she would wake up to since she was desperately hoping everything had been a dream. A terrible, beautiful nightmare.<p>

It took several moments but Clary was finally able to convince herself to find out the truth. Her eyes fluttered open and instantaneously scrunched shut again at the light. _That was smart, Clary._ More cautiously this time, she slowly opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the brightness in the room.

"It's about time you woke up."

The voice came from beside her and she turned her head, which hurt as badly as before, to face the source. Jace, the blonde haired boy from earlier was sitting with his feet propped up on the cot next to hers. His face was expressionless. Clary could not tell for the life of her whether he was happy to see that she was alive or annoyed that she was occupying one of his many beds. _From the short time I've known him, probably the latter._

"What time is it?" Clary's voice was rougher than she expected and her cheeks warmed with embarrassment.

"Almost noon. You've been sleeping all morning." Even his tone wasn't giving hints to his current state.

She continued to watch at him, waiting for his façade to falter but it never did. That must be just his normal attitude. Indifference.

Finally, she adverted her gaze and roamed the room with her eyes. "Where am I?" she was able to mutter out in a mix of confusion and wonder.

"The infirmary at The Institute."

_The Institiute, the club, the blue haired boy, the black mark on her arm that vanished, Simon._ It was all coming back to her as if someone opened the flood gates of her memories. "What happened?"

"I think you know what happened." His eyes narrowed accusingly but it vanished just as quickly as it came.

"Where is Alex? I like him better, he's nicer." Clary was tired of his mood swings.

"If you like him so much you'd know his name is Alec," Jace said evenly but putting emphasis on the 'c' in the name, "not Alex."

"Well I'm sorry, but you seem to have forgotten that I was attacked by a strange—creature in an alley and therefore was not able to be properly introduced to the boy that saved me." Clary's tongue tasted bitter in her mouth, she was not one to let people harass her but she did not like it when she got angry.

"For the record, I saved you. Alec came after I killed the "creature" that attacked you. So you're welcome." Now he was mocking her, but not in a playful way.

"You may have saved me but you've been nothing but a temperamental ass ever since." She crossed her arms in annoyance, she could feel her face heating up and her hands shaking. _Ooh, this boy._

Jace didn't retort with any sarcastic remark, instead he got up from his seat and stalked out of the huge infirmary. Clary watched him go, incredulous, but stayed where she was nevertheless. Not only did she not have the energy to get up and follow him, but she did not want to give him that satisfaction. He obviously was used to everyone catering to him and his temper.

A few moments later, the clunk of heavy boots echoed down the hallway and Clary looked as the dark haired boy, Alec, walked in tentatively. He looked at Clary and stopped a few feet from the end of her bed. They stood in an awkward silence for a moment before Alec's eyes shifted to the floorboards.

"You asked for me?"

"I was just saying that I like you better than Jace because you're nicer." Alec stifled a laugh at the comment and smiled at her.

"Yeah, he can be a bit—of a handful sometimes." He let the smile fade a little, "How are you feeling?"

"Still tired and really confused as to what's going on." Clary rubbed her tired eyes and looked back to Alec.

"Well, let me go get you something to eat and I'll explain." Alec smiled at her sweetly and nodded as he turned to walk back out but stopped right after.

Clary followed his gaze to the open doors and saw Jace walk in with two plates of food. He brushed past Alec and handed Clary one of the plates, and sat back in his seat as if she didn't call him a 'temperamental ass' just five minutes ago. She couldn't help the confused look that scrunched up her face at Jace's unusual behavior.

Alec laughed at the foot of her bed and sat down silently on the cot on her other side. He watched as Jace scarfed down his food in a slow manner and began to explain everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

...

"So demons are real?" Out of all the things Clary had just heard, that was the only question she couldn't get past.

"Very real," Alec nodded.

There was a moment of silence that allowed for everything to sink in, Jace and Alec watching her expectantly.

"And you hunt demons?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jace boasted.

After rolling her eyes at Jace's enthusiastic interjection, Clary looked back up at the ceiling trying to sort out all of her thoughts. It was information overload.

"So, if you're so secretive how come you brought me back to your lair?"

Jace and Alec both had a laugh at this but Alec was the first to respond. "First off, we're not some group of superheroes fighting the bad guy and ruining his plan to take over the world."

"Well in a sense, we kind of are," Jace noted and shrugged his shoulders at Alec's "not-the-time" face. Jace continued anyway, "But mundies usually can't see us. But after the night's events we've come to the conclusion that obviously you're not one."

"What's a 'mundie'?" Clary's eyebrow rose slightly.

"A mundane, it's what we call normal humans. We have the ability to conceal ourselves from the mundane world and only people who have the Sight can see us," Alec answered in his professional way.

"So you're telling me that I have the Sight? But—how? I mean, I've lived in New York my whole life. It's just been me and my mom—" She cut off mid-sentence, "Crap, my mom. How do I explain all of this to her?"

"Easy," Jace started, playing with the hem of his shirt nonchalantly. His eyes lifted to meet hers, "you don't."

Now Clary was sure her mouth gaped open at his casual reply. "But how do I _not_ tell her? I mean, maybe she has the Sight too. What if a demon comes for her too?" She was getting frantic and Alec placed his hand gently, but firmly on her shoulder.

"What Jace is getting at is that you can't tell her until we figure out what's going on ourselves." He said, shooting daggers at Jace for being inconsiderate.

She rested back into the pillows behind her and resumed staring at the ceiling. After what felt like silent hours, Jace finally broke the air.

"Well, we know you have Shadowhunter blood in you. Even if it is a trace amount." He shrugged as if stating the obvious, although it probably was to him.

"How do you know that?" Clary's green eyes opened wide with curiosity.

"That rune," Jace gestured to her arm where the black mark had scarred, "it affected you, in a good way. Usually, if a rune is placed on a mundane—" He paused, contemplating how to explain this, "Well, they die."

It seemed that with every question Clary asked, she just got more confused. She stared blankly at Jace, thinking about what he had just said. She sighed, giving up and closed her eyes in defeat. The air shifted as Alec stood up and grabbed the metal rail at the end of her bed.

"We'll leave you to rest," he said quietly, grabbing Jace's sleeve and pulling him out the huge double doors.

Clary didn't want to rest, she had been sleeping all day and she still had so many questions to ask but her body was exhausted. And there was no way she was getting out of that bed anytime soon. She allowed herself to think about the dramatic turn her life had taken and before she had the chance to stop herself, she was asleep.

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><p><strong>Well, Jace is still being moody and what not but Alec is there to even out the playing field. I have decided that Alec will already be in a relationship with Magnus because I do not believe I could effectively write him as still being in love with Jace (and hating Clary at the time). Besides, this Alec is so much more pleasant and likeable.<strong>

**And also I was surprised by the fact that nobody accused me of calling him "Alex" before in Clary's POV. I was hoping you all could hold off until it was brought up, so thank you.**

**Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. Review. Favorite. Follow. Whatever you'd like to do. All the love and attention is immensely appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Once again I have failed miserably at updating in an appropriate time frame. I'm sure you don't want to hear my apology but I'm sorry nonetheless. I was so excited about Spring Break, thinking that I'd have so much time to write but then I got hit with writer's block. Fantastic. Anyway, here is chapter five for all of the loyal readers. Unfortunately it is not the most exciting chapter but it's something!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters mentioned in this story. All rights belong to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>Clary woke up to the smell of food after what seemed like mere minutes of sleeping. She opened her eyes and immediately noticed the change in lighting. The sun was no longer beaming through the tall, shaded windows. It was fairly dark and the infirmary was lit with candelabras mounted periodically on the walls. The strange blue-ish color of the light was dim but enough for Clary to see movement out of the corner of her eye.<p>

Without hesitation she turned to see a pair of golden eyes staring back at her. Startled, she inched away almost falling off the bed, but the eyes followed her keenly. Every movement, Clary could tell, was being calculated by the intense gaze. In that same moment an arm reached out and the lamp on her bedside table flared to life.

"You scared me," Clary sighed out in relief.

"Sorry," Jace's muttered apology did nothing to calm her pounding heart. "I thought you might be hungry." He outstretched his arm again but this time Clary saw that he was offering her a white takeout dish.

The aroma from the steaming dish had Clary grabbing for the food. "How long was I sleeping?" Aware of her desperation for the food, she forced herself to eat the mu shu pork slowly and willed the blush in her cheeks to fade.

Clary could have sworn she saw the corner of Jace's lip twitch into a quick smirk as she took the food from him. "About 6 hours."

She didn't dwell on the answer for too long, pausing only briefly enough to figure out what time it was then. But then the thought wandered into her head if Jace had been there the whole time, watching over her. Clary mentally slapped herself, _what are you doing? You just met this guy and you're getting excited at the thought of him staying by your bedside?_

Jace interrupted the thought, "Are you well rested now?" His tone was neither sarcastic nor friendly but Clary didn't bother trying to understand it. Instead she just nodded her head while she continued to eat the delicious food. "Good, because you've got a few people to meet."

Clary self-consciously glanced down at the dirty and tattered clothes she had worn to the club. She couldn't present herself looking as she did now. Just as she was about to object to the idea Jace dropped a pile of black clothes, folded neatly, onto the end of her bed.

"I brought these for you," he said lightly and gestured for her to follow him with the wave of his hand, "Come on. I'll show you to your room and you can freshen up in there."

Clary flung the thin blanket away from her legs and clambered after Jace. He led her out of the infirmary and down the familiar halls of the Institute. She let her gaze travel along the walls where the same blue light illuminated the old, gold framed paintings. She stopped in front of one of the repeated images of an angel rising from a lake, grasping a cup in one hand and a sword in the other that adorned everything in the Institute it seemed.

"That's the Angel Raziel, he was summoned by Jonathan Shadowhunter who asked him for a race of people who could kill demons. By pouring his blood in that cup, The Mortal Cup, and having Jonathan drink it, Shadowhunters were born." Jace's informative voice came from just over her shoulder but she was too busy connecting the story to the picture to turn and confirm her thought. "Now to become a Shadowhunter you are either born of one or you drink from the Mortal Cup."

Now when she turned around, Jace had continued down the hall and was already turning the next corner. Clary picked up her pace, still glancing at every detail of the hall and turned the corner also. Jace was stationed in front of a closed door.

Before Clary could say anything, Jace pushed open the heavy door and gestured her inside. She stepped into the massive room and took in the features quickly. The dusty furniture around the room took up most of the space, the large, four poster bed requiring the most. The paned windows extended up to the high ceiling and Clary found herself drawn to them.

Next thing she knew she was brushing back the drapes and catching a glance of the busy New York street. Cars blazed by in the evening rush of people trying to get home from work. Nobody even slowed to take a second look at the enormous building that loomed just in front of them. That is the essence of New York though, everyone is in their own world in the same place.

"Completely oblivious, you people are." Jace released a breath that washed over her neck which resulted in her body shuddering at their sudden proximity.

Clary turned her gaze on him as he regarded the New York scene just over her shoulder. His eyes flicked back to her and a smirk flashed across his stoic face. Jace turned smoothly on his heel and walked back to the other side of the room, reaching for the knob of a door. He let his stare fall on Clary once again and she could feel his eyes take her in quickly.

"Here," He twisted the knob and pushed gently against the door. "When you're ready, I'll be waiting outside."

Jace left the room just as quietly as he always moved. Clary, looking out the window again, wouldn't have known he had gone if not for the click of the door shutting behind him. She walked into the bathroom and placed the black clothes onto the counter and then prepared herself for the coming events.

...

Finally emerging into the hallway, Clary found Jace leaning against the wall, looking down at his fingernails casually. She looked back up to see him already watching her, it seemed he was always two steps ahead and she wondered if he could ever be caught off guard. Jace took a moment to look at Clary carefully and examine her outfit. This caused her to shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny but he didn't seem to notice. Instead he stalked off in the opposite direction without revealing any clue as to what he was thinking. Clary rolled her eyes and followed him at a distance, studying the way he carried himself.

Jace must have increased his pace without her realizing it because once again Clary found herself racing to catch up with him and avoid getting lost in the maze-like hallways. She was so annoyed by his lack of interest one moment and then the next moment he was a typical teenage boy. His mood swings were going to give her whiplash.

Clary came to a stop when she turned the corner and saw Jace waiting for her in front of two huge double doors. She marveled at the intricate design in the wood of the doors and walked the rest of the way to the entrance. Jace leaned forward and pressed the double doors inward and they opened almost theatrically. The room inside put her bedroom to shame. The ceiling extended way above the normal vaulted ceiling and the large walls were lined with bookshelves, which were jammed with books of all sizes. She hesitantly took a few steps forward, glancing up at Jace's steady eyes and continued on into the room.

All around the room were books, statues and couches placed strategically throughout. Books upon books, paintings upon paintings and even glass cases filled with weapons, jewelry and other trinkets. Clary found herself drawn to the cases and was scanning over the contents while trying to imagine the history behind each item.

"Spoils."

Jace's voice broke her out of her thoughts and brought her back to the real world. Although she was never interested in history class back at school, for some reason these items, and what stories they could tell of the Shadowhunting world and those who have gone before Jace and Alec, intrigued her immensely. She looked over her shoulder at Jace who appeared to be wary of getting too close to her, his posture tense and tired.

"Back before the Accords—our truce with Downworlders—" he clarified quickly, "the Shadowhunters would take 'prizes,' if you will, from those they killed." He caught her glance but quickly dropped his eyes back to the floorboards.

"Those are just some of the most important ones that either were weapons in their possession or provide us information about them."

Clary's head snapped up to the second level walkway above them to find the source of the justification. An older man in a plain tweed suit and a scar stretching down his cheek was standing with his hands clasped behind his back casually. He stared down at them, Clary in particular, with a glint of recognition in his eyes.

"Clary, this is Hodge." Jace gestured upwards at the man then his arm dropped back to his side.

"Hello, Clary." His voice was thin but Clary could hear the authority in it nonetheless, "I knew your mother."

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><p><strong>So like I said, this is more of just a filler chapter but we got to meet Hodge! And Jace is back to being all helpful again... Man, that boy. Oh well, we love him despite his mood swings. I hope you have enjoyed this and continue to read, review, favorite and follow. I extremely appreciate all of the attention you give this story.<strong>

**And if you've read The Infernal Devices, I wrote a one shot over there called "Until Tomorrow" but nobody seems to want to leave their opinions. I've gotten quite a few views but it has been left unloved by comments. So I would greatly appreciate it if you jumped over and let me know what you think.**

**Thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well would you look at that. An update. And it didn't take me a million years! 50 points to Gryffindor! Okay, anyway back to the story. Well I don't really know what to say here because it's usually my apology portion but I don't have to apologize for anything.**

**Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows on the last chapter. And just everyone who has been reading this story in general! I appreciate it all so very much.**

**To the Guest who asked me when Clary would start seeing ghosts, first of all I'm sorry I forgot to mention this last chapter and secondly, there are no ghosts in this story. I realize that the title would lead you to believe that but they are simply the lyrics from "When The Darkness Comes" by Colbie Caillat. So I'm sorry if that is what you were expecting from this story. I hope you still read it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of the characters in this story. All rights belong to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>"Wait, so my mom was a Shadowhunter?" Clary was aware how stupid she must look with her eyebrows creased and mouth open but that wasn't one of her worries at the moment. "But that doesn't make sense. I would have known." She thought about how little she actually knew of her mother's life before she was born. She sat back against the hard back of the chair, shoulders slumping in realization. "How did I not know?"<p>

"Maybe you do know, you are just not aware of it," Hodge started simply. "Your mother was a very skilled Shadowhunter and she associated with other very skilled Shadowhunters. One of them being Valentine Morgenstern, who had assembled a group called The Circle, to oppose the Accords."

Jace was pacing back and forth by the fireplace just behind where Clary sat, listening intently despite his uninterested facial expression. Clary was taking in every detail with growing confusion but learning about her mother's past was keeping her from getting up and leaving that minute. Either that or she couldn't figure out how to walk anymore, she didn't know but she stayed put in the chair. Hodge continued on with his history lesson without hesitation.

"Unfortunately, what the members of The Circle didn't know was that Valentine wanted to rid the world of Downworlders altogether, not just evade forming a truce with them. He stole the Mortal Cup and planned to build an army of pure Shadowhunters." He paused and shifted his gaze from Clary to the coffee cup in his hand. "Then Valentine's remains were found in the debris of his mansion, which he burnt down, along with the remains of his wife and son. And that is where my confusion stems from."

"What do you mean?" Clary asked. Jace was now watching his tutor with narrowed eyes, lit by a sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains of the tall windows.

"Well, you're standing right in front of me."

Her green eyes narrowed just the same as Jace's gold ones, "I still don't understand."

"If you are Jocelyn's daughter," Hodge said, a small smile playing on his lips because he knew something she didn't, "then she obviously didn't die in that fire."

There was an instant chill and stillness about the air as his words floated around in her head. Somehow, she felt Jace freeze in mid-pace and could now feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of her head. Hodge was watching her, waiting for her to connect the dots, the smile trying to quirk the corners of his mouth into a wide grin.

"My mom was Valentine's wife?" The words came out in an almost inaudible whisper but they filled the room as if she had shouted them. Both of the men's gazes were trained on her and their intensity was fully apparent.

"Yes, Clary," Hodge's voice faded into the background of her thoughts as she processed the newfound information of her mother.

"But that doesn't make sense, she wouldn't marry someone like him."

"Valentine was a great man, before the desire to purify the bloodline took control. He was handsome and very smart, and he loved your mother as much as she loved him," he justified.

"So where's the cup?" Jace suddenly interrupted.

Hodge leaned back in his chair, "The age-old question. After Valentine took it from The Clave and subsequently died in the fire, nobody knew its fate. But now that we know Jocelyn is alive we may have a new lead. We will need to send for her immediately and bring her here so I may speak with her."

Clary nodded obediently, as if she wasn't really listening, but stayed seated while she fiddled with her fingers. Only when Jace's hand pressed down against her shoulder did she look up to rejoin the conversation. His hand squeezed her shoulder quickly, reassuringly, and then he was pulling her up from the chair. She stumbled into him but his arm was wrapped around her to steady her in an instant and he was leading her out of the library.

…

"She's not answering," Clary put the phone back onto the table after her fourth time trying to call her mother.

"Well then we'll just have to go get her," Jace stated matter-of-factly.

Clary couldn't figure out why he was being so pleasant all of a sudden, and for an extended period of time. Maybe he pitied her for the dramatic change that has befallen her life. Maybe he took some happy pills that turned him into Mr. Nice Guy. Either way, she couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing, not just yet.

Jace was looking at her, studying her, but quickly adverted his eyes when she turned to him. He gestured to the door and followed Clary out into the hall. Clary paused outside the door and waited for Jace to lead her out of the ever confusing maze-like hallways. He said nothing the rest of the way to the front door leading out in the city street, even standing in the close proximity of the elevator Clary felt like there were miles between them. But she refused to interrupt the silence in fear of his mood swings coming back full force.

…

Arriving on the front steps of her Brownstone didn't have the ring of familiarity in the air. No, something was different, something was off. Clary shot Jace a perplexed look as she reached into her pocket for her house keys. As she jammed the key in and twisted the handle slightly, she found the door was already unlocked. Clary wanted to shake it off but the fact that she already felt that something was off only made her more suspicious.

Jace saw her shoulders tense and instinctively reached for the sword strapped across his back. He followed at her heels as she walked upstairs to the second floor landing. He watched as she paused and raised her hand, hesitantly pushing her palm against the already open door. Her eyebrows furrowed and she tensed even more, if that was possible.

Before Clary could push the door fully open, Jace's hand gripped around her wrist and held it in place. She looked up at him, confused, but he was staring through the crack of the door into the apartment. Jace stepped in front of her and released his grip only to return it back to the hilt of his sword. He swiftly pulled it out from behind him and whispered something to it causing it to flare up with light. The door opened slowly, Clary peeked over Jace's shoulder to peer into the apartment.

"What happened?" She asked in bewilderment but Jace quickly shushed her and motioned for her to be quiet.

Clary obediently followed him silently as they entered the chaotic apartment. The couch was overturned onto its side, books were scattered across the hardwood floor and the drapes were ripped from their rods. She reached for the scraps of one of her mother's paintings that lay at her feet and looked up to Jace's stoic expression with her worried eyes.

Jace told her to stay there as he went to search the rest of the apartment but she couldn't stand still anymore. The building curiosity was about to overflow and pour out of her, so she reached for the nearest object that could double as a weapon, which so happened to be a wire coat hanger, and set off to search the opposite side of the apartment.

Slowly, she made her way down the hall and paused just outside her mother's bedroom. She took a deep breath to prepare herself for what could be behind the door. Without another moment to hesitate, Clary rammed her shoulder into the door and burst into the room. Her eyes frantically surveyed the room, looking for any sign of her mother but she came up empty. She felt the hope in her chest deflate.

Just then a hand clamped down onto her shoulder in a hard grip. Clary whirled around, wielding the iron hanger with inexperienced determination. Jace threw his hands in the air in mock surrender but a slight smirk graced his face.

"Whoa there, musketeer."

"Sorry," Clary grumbled as she dropped the coat hanger. It clattered to the ground and Jace let out a small chuckle but Clary's forlorn expression shut him up. "She's not here."

Jace looked down, "No, she's not."

He watched Clary turn around and look desperately around before she turned back to him. "What happened?"

The hopelessness was evident in her voice and honestly, Jace hated himself for letting this happen. Of course, he had no idea this was going to happen but he felt responsible and guilty that it had. For some unknown reason, he wanted to pull her into a hug, if only to reassure her that everything was okay, but he refrained from doing so. Those feelings were not supposed to be there. Jace had trained his whole life to stop those kinds of feelings from interrupting what he did.

"We need to tell Hodge. He'll know how to help."

The apartment air chilled amidst their silence, Jace shivered uncharacteristically but shrugged it off. He looked at Clary again but she was still focused on the floor beneath her feet. It looked as if she was trying to solve the world's problems and in any other circumstance Jace would have capitalized on that and made some sarcastic remark. But not this time.

He walked back towards the living room of the apartment, hoping she would follow him but her voice quietly called after him. "Why?" Jace glanced back over his shoulder at her, "Why is this happening to us?"

"I don't know," he admitted dejectedly. He always had an answer, but not for this.

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><p><strong>Poor little Jace is feeling a little dejected. But something has to prick his ego to deflate it a little bit. Next chapter has a little bit of Clace fluff!<strong>

**Also, I want to ask you again to check out my TID oneshot if you haven't yet.**

**Read, Review, Favorite, Follow and all of that good stuff. Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I have to be the most horrible human being ever! I sat here for months with writer's block and just a complete lack of inspiration for this story. I was driving myself crazy over how I was going to get the next chapter up for you. Then I finally log back on and find that I was one chapter behind and had the next chapter already written.**

**I am so extremely sorry that you are stuck with such a forgetful idiot.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or the characters in this story. All rights belong to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p>The trip back to the Institute was traveled in a frigid silence between the two. On the subway, Clary sat on the bench across from where Jace was seated, staring down at her shoes the same way she had been since they left her apartment. On the other hand, Jace took advantage of her distraction and studied her from across the aisle. Her red hair fell in front of her face, acting as a curtain between her and the rest of the world. And Jace found himself itching to push the curls back behind her ear so he could see her green eyes. <em>Stop it, Jace! Get a grip, will you?<em> He mentally slapped himself at these foreign feelings that were sidetracking him from the task at hand. _Find Clary's mom._

The sound of the brakes screeching and the slight lurch as it skidded to a halt just at the platform vibrated the car they were in. Clary stood up, almost robotically, and exited the doors the second they slid open, without knowing if Jace was following. But of course he was. Something about Clary drew him to her and he knew in that moment that he would follow her wherever she went.

…

After they successfully trekked back to the Institute, Hodge met them in the library where they discussed the events of the night, which wasn't much. Still, Clary was in her own mind and was barely listening to Jace relay the details of the state in which they found her apartment. It wasn't until the silence caught her attention and she realized both Hodge and Jace were staring at her. She just looked back at them with dull eyes.

"Clary," Hodge started, "I have to tell the Clave about what has happened."

She just gazed at him, as if he hadn't said anything.

"They will want to meet with you and question you about what you know."

"But she doesn't know anything!" Jace answered for her in a more angry tone than she would have given.

"Maybe she does, like I said before, but she just doesn't realize that she knows," Hodge countered. "The Council could vote to use the Mortal Sword an—"

"How can she undergo the Mortal Sword if she doesn't remember? She would be telling the truth, _her truth,_ what she believes is the truth." Jace was visibly frustrated now, Clary could see a vein in his temple throbbing. "She'll have to go through all of that for nothing. They won't get the answers they need from her."

"But I can't just sit here without telling them that Jocelyn Fairchild is missing, we're harboring her daughter and the Mortal Cup might be within our reach," Hodge chided Jace's attitude. And before Jace could make another comment on Clary's behalf, he finished his thoughts. "I'm telling the Clave." And with that he stood from his desk and walked out of the library.

Clary stared at the table in front of her as the huge door Hodge just disappeared through shut tightly. In her peripheral vision she could see Jace pacing back and forth in front of Hodge's desk. She could hear him grumbling to himself and could just imagine the look on his face, his hands clenching into fists and then unclenching. After a few moments he seemed to have calmed and now was facing towards the windows, his back to her.

"You should go to bed, Clary," he sounded tired.

"I'm not tired," Clary defiantly stated.

Now Jace turned to look at her with his eyebrows raised in surprise. It was the first time she had spoken, let alone made eye contact with him, since they left her apartment. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, Clary's eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"You're exhausted." He was thrumming his fingers against the wood of the desk either from being anxious or impatient. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room. Unless you remember how to find your way on your own."

Clary merely nodded and stood from the chair she was sitting in just as Jace's hand brushed her shoulder. She looked up at him for a split second and his hand settled on the small of her back, steadying her in case she fell over at any moment. But Clary was glad to have the reassurance because quite honestly she didn't trust her legs to carry her safely down the long corridors.

…

Clary didn't know what time it was when she finally fell asleep nor did she know what time it was when she shot out of bed drenched in a cold sweat. The white bedding was twisted around her legs and her tank top clung uncomfortably to her back. She was trying desperately to calm down and steady her heart beat but with every inhale of air came a sharp stab in her ribcage.

The door to her room flung open and Jace bounded in, wearing only sweats, a wild look in his eyes as he surveyed the room. His gaze finally came to rest upon Clary and he sighed in relief, his shoulders dropping from their apprehensive state. Her breathing still hadn't slowed so she raised her hand to cover her mouth as she continued to gasp for air through her tight throat. Jace was kneeling at her side instantly, worry clearly written all over his face.

"I killed him. I killed him." Clary repeated over and over in between gasps.

Jace's hand reached up instinctively and cupped the side of her face so gently. She didn't even know she was crying until his thumb was wiping wetness across her cheek. For a minute he just stared at her, his expression unreadable, but he snapped out of his reverie quickly.

"Shh, Clary it was just a dream. Just a bad dream." His golden eyes were set on hers, trying to get her to look at him. "It's alright, you're okay, Clary."

Even with his soothing voice in her ear, Clary still found it difficult to control her breathing. Finally, she caught Jace's eyes and felt her body relax at the kindness and concern in them. For the first time since she woke up, her heart slowed down to a steady thump in her chest. Jace was still speaking and comforting her, his free hand now rubbing slow circles on her back.

"It's alright, Clary. It was just a bad dream." He moved to sit next to her on the bed and she found herself leaning towards his warmth and security. Without even thinking about it, Jace pulled her closer into his chest and tightened his arms around her. "Shh, it's alright."

When the gasping subsided, her breathing evened out and only the occasional hiccup was evidence of her mid-night fit, she leaned away from Jace and glanced up at him. Realizing how close they were and the reason for his presence in her room, Clary dropped her head in embarrassment. Luckily, it was dark in the room and she prayed that he couldn't see her blush. She was hyperaware of his arms still wrapped around her shoulders, of every place his body was touching hers.

"I'm sorry," she was able to mumble out just loud enough for him to hear. "For waking you," that was an afterthought.

"You didn't wake me up, I couldn't sleep." Jace's voice was so soft and gentle, like if he spoke too loudly she'd break into pieces. He leaned back and tried to look her in the eyes, "are you alright?"

Clary lifted her head to see his gaze boring into her, searching her eyes for an answer. "I think so." There was a small pause when Jace's eyes narrowed, questioning if that was the truth.

"Do want to talk about it?" Now his gaze wandered away from her face and nervously glanced around the room. Clary assumed he didn't show this much concern for someone else very often but she wasn't so sure if she wanted to spill her guts out to him. So she just shook her head instead. "Oh," he sounded disappointed and stood up from the bed. A cool rush of air ran down her side and she shivered in response. "Well then, I'll just let you go back to bed."

He started walking towards the door but Clary's heart ached and she realized she didn't want him to leave, at least not just yet. "Jace?" He stopped mid-step and turned slightly to look back at her, his eyes hardened back to their usual expressionless gaze, all signs of his earlier vulnerability disappeared in an instant. "I don't think I can go back to sleep. If you can't sleep either," she hesitated with the next part, "you can—uh, it's just that—I'll be here." _Smooth, Clary._

Clary was positive she could see Jace's lips twitched up in the corners and his eyes softened again, but only a little. She watched him closely as he glided over to her bedside so gracefully that she immediately envied him. With just a minor pause of hesitation, Jace lowered himself so he was sitting on the edge of her bed. Stiffly, he leaned back against the headboard and his head hit the wall. They just sat there in a silence that had become so common that it was almost comfortable now.

"I—" Jace started but cut himself off and Clary swore she saw his cheeks flush. She watched him expectantly and waited for him to finish his thought. He looked at her but quickly turned his head to the side again, rolling his eyes. "I could, um, tell you a story. If you'd like?" The last part came out more like a question and he finally looked back at her.

Clary smiled at this new side of Jace that she had never imagined even existed. _Maybe it only comes out after midnight,_ she thought to herself. "Yeah, I'd like that." She settled back into bed, turning to face him and burying her head into the pillow. It was soft, just like Jace's voice as he began to tell his story.

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><p><strong>That was my favorite part of the first book, when he told her the story of the boy and his bird. Anyway, I don't know how to apologize enough for my stupidity. But I want to thank everyone for staying around even though I know it sucks to wait for me. Also thank you for the continued love and support. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak so if you could send good thoughts and prayers my way that I'll find that inspiration again. Thank you.<strong>

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	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of these characters. All rights go to Cassandra Clare.**

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><p><em>Ugh.<em>

Clary groaned in frustration and buried her head further into the pillow.

_Go away!_

She turned completely over to the other side but somehow the nuisance was still apparent.

_Leave me alone!_

Admitting defeat, Clary threw the comforter back from her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was icy beneath her feet and she immediately regretted leaving the warmth of the bed. But she couldn't handle this annoyance any longer.

"Stupid sun," Clary grumbled in irritation as she yanked the drapes closed, blocking out the stream of sunshine that blinded her.

Before she could return back to her safe haven under the covers, a knock sounded at her bedroom door. Clary sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get any more sleep, and opened the door to reveal a slightly annoyed Isabelle. Her almost black eyes met Clary's momentarily. "Breakfast is ready." Isabelle rolled her eyes like it was the biggest burden to be sent to come and get Clary for breakfast.

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute." Clary said carefully while she looked Isabelle up and down. _How does she look so good this early in the morning?_ She subconsciously smoothed her curls down from their undoubtedly unruly state. Messy bedhead was the epitome of understatements when it came to Clary's fiery locks. Usually she had to sleep with her hair in a bun to look somewhat presentable the next morning. Without another moment of hesitation, Isabelle sauntered back down the hall until she turned out of Clary's view.

…

"Nice mane."

Clary felt the blush creep up her neck and burn her cheeks at Jace's sleepy insult, which elicited a smirk from him. Once again she tried to smooth down her hair as she sat down at the long table across from a silent Alec. But then the events of last night hit her. Jace came into her room and sat with her, telling her a story, until she fell asleep. Clary ducked her head in embarrassment and then the subsequent shame she felt from the disappointment regarding his absence when she woke up. _Of course he didn't stay. Why did you expect him to anyway? _She decided to deal with these annoying feelings later, when she had time to.

Instead she focused on her breakfast and the events of the new day. The plate that sat in front of her was neatly organized into sections of eggs, bacon and toast. Her stomached growled at the smell and she wasted no time picking up her fork and digging in.

"Brother Jeremiah is on his way." Hodge entered the kitchen and perched himself at the counter, watching Jace specifically.

And not even a second after his words left his mouth, Clary understood why he was watching Jace. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed. In fact, Isabelle and Alec also tensed at Hodge's news. The whole kitchen had air that was so thick she could cut it with a knife.

"I'll be in my room if you need me. I'd rather not be here when he arrives." Isabelle stated and shivered as she grabbed her plate and walked out the door.

"What's wrong?" Clary was confused, and after how Isabelle reacted, a little frightened also.

Jace avoided her gaze and so Alec jumped in to answer her question. "The Silent Brothers creep Isabelle out. Well, they creep all of us out." And when he saw that she was still confused, he explained even further. "The Silent Brothers are a group of Shadowhunters who have chosen knowledge over everything else. They keep the records of all Shadowhunters and our history."

"So why is everyone so afraid of them?"

"They mutilate themselves." Jace's edgy tone should have been enough to silence her but she was still curious about these Silent Brothers.

"What does he mean?" Clary directed her question to Alec since he seemed to be the only person at the table who had a level head.

Alec sat silent for a moment and Clary could tell he was trying to figure out how to answer her question. After fumbling over his words a few times he finally was able to tell her about the scars, their oath to silence and loneliness and where they lived. Jace continued on eating his food, although it was more like he was pushing the food around the plate then occasionally taking a small bite. Clary pushed her plate away from her claiming that she had lost her appetite.

She watched as Jace stood up from the table and stiffly walked out of the room without a word as to where he was going or why. Alec didn't say anything when she turned to him so Clary didn't think she should ask. Instead, he gave her a "get used to it" look and returned to his food.

…

Clary was occupying herself in the library, looking through books that relayed the history of the Shadowhunter race, when Hodge came in with this tall shadow following behind him. She froze in place, a chill ran down her spine, but she tried to hide her sudden fear. Hodge stopped a little ways away from her to introduce their visitor before they freaked her out too much.

"Clary, this is Brother Jeremiah. He has come to offer his help with your memories."

Still frozen in place, she watched as the shadowy mass reached up to the hood of his charcoal, parchment-like cloak and pulled it away from his face. Although Clary wasn't sure if you could really call it a face. It was more like a skeletal skull with deep, sunken eyes and hollow cheekbones. But what immediately drew her attention was his mouth. It looked as if it had been sewn shut, like a physical representation of their oath to silence.

And if Clary thought nothing more could frighten her about Brother Jeremiah, she was proven wrong only moments later.

"_I will help you to remember."_

This time she didn't even try to hide the surprise. Clary visibly cringed when his monotone voice echoed inside her mind. For a split second she thought that she imagined the voice but when she looked to Hodge for help she knew it was real. Clary felt Jace standing behind her, looking over her shoulder and she could also feel the tension radiating from him. Despite every instinct in her begging her to run from the room, she realized there was no other way to figure out how to save her mom so Clary nodded slightly in consent.

"You are to go with him to the City of Bones where the other Brothers will also help." Hodge stated as if they were planning a business meeting.

…

The City of Bones was a depressing place to say the least but nobody else seemed to be as affected by it as Clary was. There was a chill as she descended down the stairs, which must have been leading underground, that eerily stung her bones. The air was moist with that under-the-earth dirt smell but everything seemed dry to her. She stuck close to Jace's side, afraid that she might get left behind and then lost in the maze of the dark halls.

Jace must have felt her shake from a chill that ran down her spine because he lightly laughed and glanced over at her. "Welcome to the City of Bones," he whispered and even in the dark Clary could see his smirk.

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><p><strong>Jace is as playful as ever.<strong>

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